"Dear me!" remarked the Scarecrow, "what unhappy
thoughts you have, to be sure. This is proof that born
brains cannot equal manufactured brains, for my brains
dwell only on facts and never borrow trouble. When
there is occasion for my brains to think, they think,
but I would be ashamed of my brains if they kept
shooting out thoughts that were merely fears and
imaginings, such as do no good, but are likely to do
harm."
"For my part," said the Tin Woodman, "I do not think
at all, but allow my velvet heart to guide me at all
times."
"The tinsmith filled my hollow head with scraps and
clippings of tin," said the Soldier, "and he told me
they would do nicely for brains, but when I begin to
think, the tin scraps rattle around and get so mixed
that I'm soon bewildered. So I try not to think. My tin
heart is almost as useless to me, for it is hard and
cold, so I'm sure the red velvet heart of my friend
Nick Chopper is a better guide."
"Thoughtless people are not unusual," observed the
Scarecrow, "but I consider them more fortunate than
those who have useless or wicked thoughts and do not
try to curb them. Your oil can, friend Woodman, is
filled with oil, but you only apply the oil to your
joints, drop by drop, as you need it, and do not keep
spilling it where it will do no good. Thoughts should
be restrained in the same way as your oil, and only
applied when necessary, and for a good purpose.
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